


Needful Things

by apple_pi



Series: Choices & Chances [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-28
Updated: 2006-08-28
Packaged: 2018-07-22 15:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7443994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_pi/pseuds/apple_pi





	Needful Things

Dom sits beside Billy in the mess tent, and he wants him so badly he isn’t paying any attention to him at all. He’s lost, instead, in a little world of his own making, because he can’t have Billy right now. Billy is Pippin, and Dom is Merry, and they’re at work.

They’re at work, so Dom thinks about last night.

Last night was the fourth night that Billy slept at Dom’s house. Billy’s skin tasted like sweat and desperation, and when he arched up into Dom’s hand, when he clutched Dom’s shoulders and let his head fall back, when he arched his neck and came over Dom’s fingers and thigh, the word that he said was _Dom_.

When he rolled atop Dom, when he reached between their bodies, when he opened his mouth and latched onto Dom’s neck and sucked so hard he left a mark, when he lifted his head and whispered into Dom’s ear, it was words of want and need and command that he whispered, it was Dom’s name. And Dom gasped and shook and came, crying _Billy_.

Dom sits beside Billy in the mess tent, and he comes back to himself with a start. His erection is pressed tightly against the inseam of the Merry trousers, half-choked by the pants the wardrobe department insists he wear. He’s sweating, his wig itches, his ears are full of glue. His thighs feel tight and heavy. Billy has finished eating, he’s pushed his plate away and laid his head on the table, face turned toward Dom. His eyes are closed.

“All right—” Dom stops and clears his throat. “All right there, Bill?”

Billy’s eyes open slowly, but he doesn’t lift his head. “I’m good,” he says, and he smiles a little, right up into Dom’s eyes.

Dom knows that Billy’s thinking about last night, too, and it’s almost unbearable. If he were anyone else, Dom would grab him by the hand and drag him away for a quick blowjob someplace quiet and private, but Billy is still unsure in many ways, still hesitant about his relationship with Dom. So Dom just smiles back.

And Billy’s hand slides onto Dom’s thigh beneath the table as that sweet smile quirks. “Wanna go find an empty trailer?” he says shyly.

~*~

Billy’s sitting in a canvas director’s chair with his coat bundled around him, laughing at something Brett has said. The cold wind whistles across their little camp, and Billy’s hands are curved around a warm mug of tea. He’s grateful for the bare bit of warmth, and for the Pippin hair and scarf protecting his neck.

Suddenly a pair of arms snakes around his shoulders. Dom: wig tickling Billy’s cheek, crooked, happy grin at Brett and Sean and Viggo and Elijah. “They’re giving us soup for lunch,” he reports, news that’s greeted with cheer by everyone present.

Brett and Viggo go off to investigate, leaving the four hobbits: Sean and Elijah huddled into their chairs just as Billy is huddled into his, Dom leaning over Billy’s back, arms around him loosely. “Give me some tea,” Dom demands, and Billy obediently lifts the cup. Dom takes it and Billy can hear him slurp carefully at it, beside his ear. “Thanks, mate,” Dom says. It’s been twelve days since Dom first kissed Billy. Sean and Elijah are hunched together, talking quietly, comparing scripts, pointing at something on the page. Dom lowers the teacup back into Billy’s waiting hands, cupped to receive it. Dom’s warm lips are against Billy’s ear. “Love you,” he whispers, and Billy shivers and feels his face warming. 

“Good,” he murmurs, smiling.

~*~

They’re playing pool, and Dom keeps patting Billy on the arse. It’s gotten to the point where Billy is keeping his front towards Dom at all times, aiming a glare at him. Elijah and Orli think it’s hilarious, and Orlando has started slapping Lij’s bum, too.

“I want to be American,” Dom proclaims, and Billy snorts. “An American football player.”

Billy snorts again. “You know you just want to get your hands on my arse,” he says, a truth that will pass as a lie. Last night Dom came for the first time with Billy inside him, and a few moments later Billy came, too, with his head bowed against Dom’s spine and fingers digging into Dom’s hips. Tomorrow will mark three weeks since the first time they lay down together in Dom’s bed.

Dom leers and sidles toward him. “Damn, you’ve found me out.”

“You don’t actually have an ass,” Elijah points out. “Hey!” Orlando manages a loud slap and Elijah leaps into the air. “Dammit, Elf,” he snaps, and as everyone is laughing Billy walks behind Dom to get to his shot, hand sliding across Dom’s back pockets, squeezing in a way that leaves Dom suddenly breathless with more than laughter.

~*~

The movie is something unmemorable; there are explosions and car chases, and there’s a bad guy with a passable German accent and a good guy who makes wisecracks at all the usual moments. Elijah’s on the floor, feet propped on Orlando’s lap, up in the armchair. Orlando rubs Lij’s feet absently; both of them have their eyes on the screen.

Billy and Dom are on the sofa, and Billy pulls his legs up, wrapping his arms around them.

“Cold?”

Billy shrugs, but he looks cold, so Dom goes in search of a duvet. He pulls the one off Orli’s bed and comes back, dragging it behind him. 

“I’ll want that back on my bed,” Orlando says mildly, still looking at the television. Dom sticks his tongue out and drapes the fluffy duvet over an uncurled Billy and himself, settling beside his mate. It makes him think of the afternoon, thirty-two days ago, that he and Billy passed on Dom’s sofa, learning to kiss each other.

“Thanks,” Billy murmurs with a small smile.

Dom reaches for his hand under the blanket. “Anytime,” he says. Billy falls asleep beside him a few minutes later, their fingers twined together, shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh, warm through.

~*~

“I think Dom has a crush on you,” Sean says seriously. He and Billy are the only ones in the makeup trailer, and it’s been quiet up to now, both of them reading books and listening to something mellow on the CD player.

Billy looks up and raises an eyebrow. _You’re forty days too late to give me the news_ he doesn’t say; “...We’re best friends,” he says instead, and Sean nods.

“I know. That’s why I said something,” Sean adds. “You guys are just—” He gestures vaguely. “Y’know? So. I, ah, I just think maybe he has a crush on you, and you should know.” He looks at Billy closely. “You already know.”

“I...” Billy shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah. It’s okay. We’re good.” He looks down at his book; it’s a mystery novel Ian gave him. “Thanks, though.” Sean’s face is quiet and unreadable when Billy looks back at him. “We’re good.”

“Okay.” Sean goes back to his book, and Billy does, too.

~*~

“Have you ever had a crush on a guy?” It’s Elijah asking, and Dom looks up, a little startled.

“What?”

Elijah looks distinctly shifty; he turns his face away. “Just wondered,” he mumbles, picking at his cuticles.

“Yeah, I have,” Dom says. “Lots of times. Done something about it, too. Why?”

“I think I have a crush on Orli,” Elijah says. He’s blushing furiously now, and Dom thinks it’s a shame, really, that the poor kid has absolutely no defense against a blush, he’s so damn fair it shows up like a red alert siren. “A little one.”

“It’s okay,” Dom says. “Y’know? Orlando’s not an arse.”

“I know _that_ ,” Elijah said, pushing the curls from his forehead and frowning. “But he’s straight. And I’m straight,” he tacks on, though it’s almost a question.

“You can be straight and still have a crush on a guy,” Dom points out. “Or you can just not worry so much about being straight.”

“Yeah.” Elijah’s klieg eyes are suddenly fixed on Dom. “D’you have a crush on Billy?”

Dom flushes and damns his own English complexion. “Yeah, ’course,” he says, grinning. “Doesn’t everyone?”

Elijah smiles at that, and Dom breathes again. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe.” Lij jumps out of his chair. “I’m going to get some more coffee,” he says, and Dom rolls his eyes.

 _Just what you need_ , he thinks, but he just gives a little wave as Elijah bounces away.

~*~

Billy’s damp and breathless, Dom still gasping beside him. “That was,” Billy says after a minute, and Dom laughs, wheezes really.

“Yeah.” He rolls over and presses himself against Billy, shoving his face into Billy’s neck.

Billy doesn’t mind; Dom seems to need a lot of touching, and Billy can hardly deny his own need for the same exact thing. He’s still getting used to it, to _them_ ; and though it’s become second nature in many ways, sometimes he still needs to be sat upon. He bends his elbow so one arm is around Dom, turns slightly onto his side to face him. They lie that way for a while, smiling, breathing deeply until their sweat has cooled and Dom reaches down to pull the duvet up and over their bodies.

“Sean said something to me the other day,” Billy tells Dom. “He thinks you have a crush on me.”

“I do have a crush on you,” Dom says, grinning, eyes closed. “A mad, passionate, horny crush on you.”

Billy snickers. “I thought about saying that to him. Something about ‘you should see him prove it.’”

Dom’s eyes open, grin softening into a smile. “Was he worried about it?”

“Worried about you, I think,” Billy says. He reaches up to stroke Dom’s hair back from his forehead. “Since I’m so straight and all.”

“Right, right.” Dom kisses Billy gently. “S’funny, Lij told me he thinks he has a crush on Orlando. Then he asked did I have a crush on you.”

“What’d you say?” Billy’s face is curious. 

“Well, first I told him Orli wasn’t an arsehole, which he knew, obviously. Then I said he should stop worrying about being straight, even if he and Orli never so much as kissed. Only I don’t think I said it quite that clearly,” Dom adds, a little line appearing between his eyes. Billy touches the line. “That’s when he asked if I had a crush on you, and I said doesn’t everyone?” Dom smiles again.

Billy’s cheeks pink. “Wanker,” he says, and Dom laughs.

“Well, they _do_ ,” he retorts. “You’re so fucking nice to everyone.” He makes a face, still laughing.

“Oh, right,” Billy puffs, but he’s pleased. He does want to be kind to people, as a general rule. “What’d Elijah say to that?”

“He said he wants to make mad, passionate love to you, and I said I’m the only one who gets to do that,” Dom declares, rolling atop Billy and grinning at him.

“You did not,” Billy scoffs, laughing, hands coming up automatically to hold Dom in place. “Prat.”

“Pillock.”

“Pervert.”

“ _Duh_ ,” Dom says, rolling his eyes. He wriggles, the stickiness between their bellies squishing a bit. “Like that’s a secret.”

“I wonder if _this_ can keep being a secret much longer,” Billy says. His palms slide down Dom’s back to his bottom. 

“It’s no one’s business but ours,” Dom says.

Billy lets his hands wander up and down Dom’s back. “You want to tell everyone.”

“No,” Dom protests. He grins suddenly. “…Yeah.”

Billy laughs and pulls Dom’s head down to his. They kiss, cheerful and sweet, and Billy rolls them both until he lies atop Dom. “I’m almost ready,” he says, looking down at Dom. Dom, whose face is flushed and glowing. Dom, whose body is warm and comforting beneath his, whose hands are splayed flat against Billy’s back, whose eyes are sleepy and bright and welcoming.

“There’s no hurry,” Dom says quietly. “There’s this thing I wanted, and I got it. And so,” Billy can feel his inhale, it moves both their bodies up and then down on the exhale. “Well.” Dom smiles. “I want to tell everybody about this thing I got, that I wanted, but the main thing is that I got it. Just, y’know. That I still have it.”

Billy has stopped being surprised by how Dom can skewer him with a few words; they’ve yet to have an argument more serious than bickering over who’s hogging the water when they shower at the same time, but Billy isn’t looking forward to the first real fight. Now he closes his eyes and lowers his mouth to Dom’s, because he wants to share his breath, needs to kiss him.

“Soon,” Billy says when they both stop, breathless, gasping. “We’ll tell them soon.”

~*~

“Christ, I thought we’d never get home,” Dom groans. He slumps against the door and waves weakly at Billy. “C’mere, come and take my shoes off. M’too tired.”

Billy eyes him from where he lies, sprawled lengthwise on the couch. “M’not getting up again. Take off your own shoes.” His gaze falls to his feet, shoved into trainers and pointed to ten and two. “Then come do mine.”

“Pfft.” Dom straightens painfully and slouches his way into the lounge to sprawl beside Billy. “I’m too tired to do you, much less your shoes.”

“Nancy,” Billy says. “Anyway, s’my birthday in two days. You can start giving me presents now.”

“Hobbit,” Dom says. “You give _me_ presents.”

They make their way, slow and grousing and grumbling, to the bathroom. “I’ll do your ears if you’ll do mine,” Dom says, climbing into the shower with Billy. “Hey.” He puts his arms around him and kisses him, a slow and lazy tangle of tongues, lips sliding against lips as hands slide over wet skin. “Wanna...?”

Billy sighs and bumps his forehead against Dom’s. “I do, but I’m so tired, eh...” His hands, though, betray him, fingers slipping between them, trailing down Dom’s stomach to curve around his half-awake cock. “Ah,” he says, eyes closing, head tilting to bring his lips against Dom’s again. “Mmm. Thought you were too tired.”

“Bill,” Dom says, stiffening in Billy’s hands, holding onto him. “Not quite. Please. Please.” He kisses him harder, pressing forward, reaching behind Billy with one hand for the bath oils on the built-in shelf. “Just. Mmmm.”

“You’ll kill me yet,” Billy says, laughing quietly into Dom’s mouth. His other hand, however, is already massaging Dom’s buttock, fingers slipping into the cleft of his arse to rub gently.

“You’ll die a happy man,” Dom says, lazy grin in place. “You can go slow. Just. I want to touch you _all day_ ,” his voice cracks, belying the lingering trace of his smile. “And I can’t, and—god. Please.”

Billy smiles, pulling back a bit to look into Dom’s face. “I know,” he says. “C’mon.” He kisses him again, slow and thorough, and Dom opens to him, mouth and body. They break apart to breathe and Dom turns around, bracing himself against the slick wall, feeling the familiar heat and want twist in his belly, curl up his spine.

“Ah, Dom,” Billy says; his fingers are warm and slippery, pressing inward as he steadies Dom with one hand on his hip. Dom breathes deeply and shifts his feet as far apart as he can in the tub, toes curling into the rough scrub of the rubber stickers on the tray. “Almost ready?” Billy’s mouth is open against Dom’s shoulder, and Dom groans as a third finger slips inward, easy and slick.

“Yeah,” he manages, and closes his eyes against it, moving his hips back and smiling a little at Billy’s inhale, at the feel of Billy’s fingers fucking him involuntarily. “Do it, Bill.” He sighs as Billy’s fingers leave him, and flattens his hand against the wet tile.

Billy enters him cautiously, as he always does, and Dom bends his head to the wall, breathing, conscious as he always is of the first strange stretch and ache of it. It never hurts—Billy would have to be much rougher than he ever is, and Dom much less wanting—but it’s strange, nevertheless: foreign, _other_. Dom breathes through it, not thinking of much, aware of Billy’s mouth slack on his shoulder, hand on his hip as the other hand slips around to hold his cock gently.

“All right?” Billy’s already moving, slow and steady, and Dom grunts something in reply, some not-word, affirmation, need. “Dom,” Billy says, breathes, a minute or three or five later, and Dom feels him shiver and still as he comes, the wet pulse of his peak lost in the wet sting of the shower, but Billy’s hand tightens on his cock and Dom closes his eyes and thinks of Billy, inside him, filling him, and he comes. It’s slow and sweeping and complete, and when the last shudders release him, Dom’s plastered to the cool tile wall of the shower.

“My hand,” Billy says; Dom straightens and lets him pull his hand out from between Dom’s softening cock and the tile. “Oh my _god_ ,” Billy moans, slipping free of Dom’s body, stepping back even as his hand strokes down Dom’s shoulder. “I don’t think I’m going to make it to the bed.”

Dom stays where he is, cheek pressed to cold stone, warm water hitting his calves. “We can sleep here,” he says.

Billy pulls him back and they stand under the spray together, eyes closed, until they’re clean again. “Bed,” he says, “C’mon, c’mon.”

They make it, creeping under the duvet, wrapping around one another. It doesn’t occur to either of them to question this now: Billy’s thigh trapped beneath Dom’s, Dom’s hand curled on Billy’s chest as Billy tucks his nose into Dom’s neck and slings an arm across his belly. Even before, they almost had this—ease and comfort, need and help. That they’re naked seems, almost, beside the point.

~*~

The front door bangs open.

“Happy birthday!” eight people shout.

There is an abrupt silence.

 _It could be worse_ , is what Dom thinks when he looks up.

Elijah, Sean and Orlando are staring through the door at him—them. Dom can see Bean and Viggo and Brett behind them on the porch, Ian and John a step back, trying to see, Ian’s drawling _Why did you all stop?_ floating ahead of him.

 _We could be naked. All the way naked_ , Dom thinks. He can hear Billy’s rapid breathing in his ear, feel the panicky thud of his pulse against his fingers, where they’re pressed lightly to Billy’s throat. _We could be naked, and my mouth could be a_ lot _lower, and Billy’s hand could be inside my trousers on my arse, instead of outside my trousers on my arse, and this could be worse._

He wonders if he’ll be able to convince Billy of that.

“Oh my GOD,” Elijah finally says loudly, and the frozen tableau at the door is broken; Orlando doubles over laughing, and Sean blushes furiously, looking away. Bean and Viggo are grinning, Viggo a little less wickedly; Brett looks taken aback. John and Ian are still only partly visible but they’ve obviously figured it out, because the next thing Ian drawls is _Oh my, perhaps we should give them a few moments. Five ought to do it, they’re young._

Dom shoots a look at Billy, who looks... blank. Although he’s very, very pink. “What should we do?” Dom whispers.

“I don’t know,” Billy hisses, closing his eyes. “I think m’just going to kill myself.”

Dom relaxes, just a fraction. “But then I won’t get to finish blowing you,” he whispers back.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to have another erection for the rest of my life anyway,” Billy says. He looks—finally—a little sadly—at Dom.

“You may be overreacting,” Dom says in a normal voice. “I think we can get past that particular problem once we have a bit of privacy. Later.” The hilarity from the doorway is beginning to subside, and the others are listening.

He can see Billy’s blush beginning to fade, and his expression is earnest. “But Dom,” Billy says loudly, “all these people think you’re _straight_.”

Dom wants to kiss him, but he figures he’ll say his lines, first. “Well, Bills,” he replies solemnly, “I did used to be. Mostly, any road.”

“I think they’re shocked,” Billy says. “But maybe they’ll get over it.” He closes his eyes for an instant and squeezes Dom’s arse. When his eyes pop open he’s blushing again, but he’s grinning. “You didn’t make a very convincing heterosexual, anyway.”

“And _you_ ,” Dom licks Billy’s nose—Sean makes a choking noise from somewhere back there— “made a very, very convincing argument for the other side.”

“Yes,” Billy says. He smirks a little at Dom, and Dom smirks back at him, and they untangle themselves, mostly, crowding together until buttons are buttoned and zippers are zipped, then turning to face the door. 

“Um,” Dom says. His face is hot, but he’s grinning like a fool, he knows. He’s got his arm around Billy’s waist.

“Now.” Billy’s arm is heavy on Dom’s shoulders, and he’s blinking equably at their guests. His face is still very pink, and his hair is messy. “Did I hear someone say they wanted to get the birthday boy a beer?”

Sean clears his throat and half-lifts a six-pack of lager. “Bean and I have the beer,” he says. “Brett has cake, and Ian and John and Viggo said they’d pay for takeaway.”

“We have presents,” Elijah says, and he and Orlando display bulging carrier bags.

Billy glances at Dom, nervous and pleased. He looks back at Sean and the others and smiles, shy and sweet as Pippin, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “So come in,” he says, and their friends do.


End file.
